


let me take a peek

by eirana



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-14
Updated: 2011-07-14
Packaged: 2017-10-21 10:01:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/223954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eirana/pseuds/eirana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Later, Adam will insist that the whole thing was Tommy’s fault.  If it wasn’t for him, he would’ve gone to a different club and he never would have met Krista Allen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let me take a peek

Later, Adam will insist that the whole thing was Tommy’s fault. If it wasn’t for him, he would’ve gone to a different club and he never would have met Krista Allen.

But he’s getting ahead of himself.

It starts off like any other night.

They’re all a little buzzed from playing a show, the high of performing still running through Adam’s veins. The crowd that night had been charged, responding to the music in a way that only happens every once in a while, especially if you play in the kind of places their band does. He’d been itching to go out, too wired from the crowd to go home and shuffle into bed the way he usually wants to after a show.

It’d been Tommy who suggested that they go to this particular club, somewhere that’s been touted as having “a little something for everyone.”

It’s classy, the palette striking in its own subtle way, grey and black with a few splashes of purple. Some areas are obviously set aside for those who want to be seen; stark white walls and rich purple couches, well-lit and on a raised platform, visible from pretty much every standpoint.

Towards the back, there’s a dark hallway lit by sconces that Adam’s sure leads to private rooms; he’d seen a grinning Tommy walk out of there a while back. Adam himself has been lounging at the bar, eying the people on the dance floor and finding them lacking.

Whoever had spread the word that this place has something for everyone hadn’t been lying; he sees all sorts of couples - and then some - on the floor. No one that interests him though.

A few particularly pretty pieces have tried to coax him into a dance, male and female alike, but Adam hasn’t wanted any of them. They’re nice, but nothing special, nothing that he’ll remember after tonight.

He’s a struggling musician with dreams of being a rock star, but he doesn’t want to do the anonymous groupie thing. At heart, he’s a romantic. He likes snuggling in bed and candlelight dinners and all that other mushy stuff.

Tonight, however, he’s in one of those moods. He wants something fun and easy, but more than that, he wants someone worth having.

The people flocking to him are nice enough to look at, but they’re dead in the eyes, all smoke and mirrors. They’re kids who’ve covered themselves up with a bit of borrowed LA glitz to distract people from noticing them for what they are.

Adam’s tired of people like that, had even been one of them once; now he wants someone worthwhile. He doubts that he’ll find that here, but he thinks that he can manage a memorable one night stand.

Someone plops noisily onto the stool next to him, huffing loudly and yanking their shoes off. He glances over, curious. The newcomer is a petite woman with shoulder-length brown hair, clad in a dark grey dress that ends mid-thigh, baring a lot of pale, muscled leg. Her shoes are dangling from one hand, four-inch heels that look so painful Adam’s own feet ache in sympathy.

“New shoes?” he asks, making her head jerk up in surprise.

She turns to look at him, and the first thought Adam has is _damn_ ; she’s stunning. Clear skin that Adam would kill to have, a full bottom lip that he can’t help noticing, and a face that’s probably been the cause of more than a few broken hearts. She stares back at him with big brown eyes framed by dark lashes, the guileless gaze a nice change from the carefully guarded ones he’s met all night.

“Umm, yeah,” she says quietly in a low, husky voice tinged by a sweet Southern accent.

“It’s a bitch, isn’t it?” She stares at him some more, biting her lip as her eyes give him an obvious once-over. He laughs, unable to help himself. “Oh, don’t worry, honey, I’m not interested. I’m so gay I ejaculate glitter.”

It makes her laugh; he finds himself smiling at the sound of it, rich and genuine. It eventually tapers off into giggles, but a smile is still on her face, bright and brilliant.

“Sorry. I just escaped from some guy who didn’t get the hint; almost injured myself trying to run away from him in these things,” she says, waving the shoes back and forth.

He holds a hand out to her, pleasantly surprised at the calluses he feels when she takes it. “Adam Lambert.”

“Krista Allen,” she says carefully, like she’s trying out a new spice and letting the taste sit in her mouth before she decides if she likes it or not.

“You do realize that you share your name with a porn star?” he says slowly, watching her.

“I’m very aware of that fact, Mr. Lambert,” Krista says slyly, something impish in the look she gives him before flagging down the bartender.

He sets a beer bottle down in front of her, taking a second to smile at her before walking away, glancing back at her every few seconds. She raises the bottle at him and tilts her head in thanks, bringing it to her lips and smiling coyly behind it.

Adam wants to laugh at the way the bartender almost drops the martini glass meant for the blonde at the other end of the bar. When he overshoots the counter because he’s too busy staring at Krista and spills the drink on the girl’s lap, Adam gives in, letting out loud, delighted guffaws.

“You’re evil,” he says, snorting.

“I know,” she says proudly before taking a large swig of her beer.

~*~

The calluses are because she plays guitar - and piano and viola, she admits with a blush. Her fingers are long and thick, hands a little too big for her body, but perfect for playing.

Adam only gets her to talk about it because he noticed the sad state of her nails and exclaimed over them. What followed is one of the best conversations Adam has had in a while.

“I moved here from Arkansas a while back, to do the struggling musician thing. You know, the small-town hick moving to the big city to get their big break.” She pauses to steal her nth sip from his vodka martini, the one the bartender had handed to him with a heated glare when he saw how closely they were sitting. “I had to sell my soul and get a job in retail a while ago, on top of working at this coffee place, but it’s worth it, you know? For those few nights a week where I get to go onstage and do what I love.”

She says it all frankly, without any bitterness. LA hasn’t gotten to her yet, and Adam hopes that it never does; if she became as jaded as the rest of its denizens, it’d be a shame.

“I know,” he says eagerly. “My band just played a show, and I forgot how good it feels when it all just _clicks_. It’s like nothing else.”

Krista nods enthusiastically in agreement, almost tottering off her barstool. Adam laughs and moves to catch her, keeping her from spilling onto the floor. She giggles as she face plants into his chest. He steps closer to her stool, making sure she’s resettled.

“I am so sorry,” she says into his shoulder, turning her head to look at him with hazy brown eyes. “My friends know better than to get me drunk so they usually keep me away from the bar.”

Krista with a few drinks in her - three, if he’s remembering correctly - is hilarious. She’s nuzzling into his neck now, and lets out the most pathetic sounding whine when he tries to let go of her.

“No. Stay,” she says insistently, wrapping her arms around him. If he could see her face clearly, he’s sure that she’d be pouting.

“I’d love to, Krista, but standing here is kind of uncomfortable.”

She ignores him, continuing to snuggle him like her very own overgrown teddy bear. Adam doesn’t mind it - he loves cuddling - but people are starting to give them looks, and, yeah, no.

“You’re a very nice girl, but remember how I said that I’m gay? And how that means that I don’t do women, even ones that are as pretty as you?”

She moves away from him then, leaning back against the bar. Her lips curve up in a smug smirk that shouldn’t be tempting, and yet it is; he _wants_ her.

Adam is gay - _very_ gay. He likes men, has always liked them, and women have never done it for him. That doesn’t mean that he can’t appreciate a beautiful woman when he sees one. This is a little beyond simple appreciation though. She’s attractive, sure, but she’s also funny and interesting and the past hour with her has gone better than most of the dates he’s been on lately. Adam has to admit, sleeping with her would indeed make tonight memorable.

He shakes his head; what is he even saying?

“Believe me, I understand what you mean when you say you’re gay. I’m not trying to get into bed with you, Adam.” Although the way she’s looking at him tells him that she certainly wouldn’t object to it. “I’m just a very cuddly drunk.” She gives him a disarming smile then, all heat gone. Adam’s starting to wonder if he imagined it.

“I definitely believe that,” he says, taking the opportunity to step back, picking up the martini glass and downing whatever’s left in one swallow; he needs it.

“You’re so nice. I thought all the people I met tonight would turn out to be jerks, like that guy from before, but you’re so nice.” Krista’s smiling at him, dreamy-eyed, looking perfectly harmless.

“I get that a lot,” Adam says dryly, sitting back down and signaling the bartender for another martini.

“But you don’t like girls,” she says sadly, looking so dejected that he wants to hug her and tell her that he was just kidding.

“Nope,” is what he actually says, because he doesn’t. Normally. When he isn’t faced with tiny girls with thighs to die for, big brown eyes and more personality than the last five twinks he’s hooked up with.

“You know,” Krista says, hopping off of the stool and picking up the shoes she’d tossed onto the floor about an hour ago, “you could have your pick of people in here, and yet you’ve been spending god knows how long making small talk with me. I’m not that interesting.” She grips the bar for support as she slips the heels back on, and Adam rushes to lend a steadying hand when she teeters a bit. She bats his hand away. “I’m fine, Adam. It was nice talking to you, but I really have to go.”

She walks away on wobbly legs before Adam can stop her. For someone who’s as drunk as she is, Krista can lose herself in a crowd fast.

The bartender puts Adam’s drink onto the bar with enough force to shatter the glass. “I don’t know what you did, but if you messed with Kris, I will take you out back and pound your face into the back wall - and not in the fun way.”

“Why are you so attached to her, anyway? Little sister? Little cousin? Ex? One night stand that you fell in love with who doesn’t give a fuck about you?”

He glares in response. He actually looks kind of threatening; Adam blames it on his beard. Maybe he should grow one.

“None of the above. But h- _she_ is my best friend, and if you crossed a line or something-”

“Oh.” Bartender’s hostility suddenly makes more sense. “Well, don’t worry. Like I told her, I’m gay; I wasn’t into her like that.”

“Uh-huh.” Bartender looks skeptical, which, okay, Adam can’t really blame him for that.

“I mean it! Honest. I don’t like girls, okay?!” If he says that last bit with a touch of hysteria, it’s not his fault. “We were just talking, then she got weird and ran off before I could ask her why.” He takes a sip of his drink, looking out into the mass of writhing bodies sadly, trying to spot her and being unable to.

Bartender’s laughing at him, which probably has something to do with the pout on his face. “Man. I didn’t think Kris could do it. I owe the little shit fifty bucks now.” He’s shaking his head, a crooked little grin on his face.

Adam is confused. “What are you even talking about?”

“Don’t worry about it, pretty boy. You want to talk to Kris? I know exactly where you can find the bastard. Probably had an attack of conscience and ran away before shit got too real.” He gives Adam a long look. “Oh, Kris is going to be so pissed tomorrow if I let you walk away.”

Adam is _very_ confused. “I’m not following you.”

Bartender rolls his eyes. “Just head towards the back and ask which for Cale’s usual room. Pass code’s three-two-five-three.”

“What?”

“Just go get your girl, pretty boy.”

~*~

After a couple minutes of (not-so) quietly freaking out and wondering if he should go through with it, Adam finds himself standing in front of a dark purple door, the one the scary looking bouncer had said was Cale’s usual. Bartender - or Cale, whatever - better not be fucking with him.

If this blows up in his face, he’ll blame it on the alcohol.

He presses the buttons on the keypad with shaky fingers. Does this club moonlight as a BDSM dungeon in its spare time or something? Since when do clubs need backrooms with password-protected locks?

There’s an obnoxious beep and a bright green light coming from the lock; Adam can go in.

Which he will. Any second now. Honest. He really will-

The door gets yanked open. “Damn it, Cale, just get inside already. I’m going crazy in here.”

Oh.

“Umm…”

Krista’s standing in the doorway, hair in disarray. Her eyes get comically large as she looks up - and up - to meet his eyes. She clears her throat a few times then smiles nervously at him. “Hi, Adam. I…wasn’t expecting you.”

He can see that. He makes some sort of noncommittal sound and stares at her blankly. She’s biting her lip, eyes darting past him, searching for someone. Probably Cale. That jerk. Just his best friend, his ass.

“If you want me to leave so that you can wait for your boyfriend, I’ll be happy to leave,” he says sardonically, letting his lips curl into a sneer.

Krista looks heartbroken at that, shoulders hunching defensively. “What are you talking about?”

“Your little friend who’s tending bar? He told me to come back here. Tell him that if he wanted to stake a claim, he could’ve just said so instead of sending me over. I wasn’t making a move; I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You’re okay, I can go. Bye.”

He tries to walk away, but she grabs onto his arm, keeping him still with a surprisingly strong grip.

“Adam! Give me a second, okay? He’s not my boyfriend. We aren’t dating, we’ve never dated, and we never will date. We did hook up once, at that frat party a couple years ago, but it didn’t get very far, and-” She shakes her head, brain finally catching up to her mouth. “That’s not important. Just come inside? Please?”

Adam should really just call it a night and say his goodbyes to his friends and drag his sorry ass home. But, well. She looks ridiculously, adorably, pathetic, and Adam isn’t a monster.

“Fine.”

Krista smiles at him, and he kind of hates himself for wanting to smile back. Why does he even care if she was back here waiting for someone else to come along? She’s a girl. A very nice girl. Who is amazing. And also unbelievably attractive.

He lets those thoughts sit in his head as she pulls him inside the room, nodding her head towards one of the plush leather couches and shutting the door. The click as it falls shut feels ominous somehow.

Adam takes a seat on the couch, trying not to moan at how luxurious it feels. It is not made of leather; it is made of magical marshmallow fluff and unicorn hair.

Wow. The drinks must be really strong here. Either that or Cale slipped something into his martini.

He lets his head loll back, staring up at the ceiling, done in some sort of modern, artistic splatter pattern. That’s an awful lot of effort to put into a ceiling. Adam wonders if all the rooms have the same setup.

The couch doesn’t even move when Krista settles down on his left. He can feel her though, the heat practically pouring off of her body. He lets his eyes drift over to where she is, allowing a smile to form at the tender expression on her face. Her eyeliner’s more smudged now, as if she’d rubbed at it, and the shimmery gloss that’d been on her lips earlier is pretty much gone, probably from all the lip biting.

It’s silent, but it doesn’t feel tense. He thinks she’s waiting for him to say something, but if Adam opens his mouth, that content look on her face will probably disappear, and he wants to savor it for as long as it’s there.

“Why’d you come looking for me?” she says eventually, whisper-soft.

He shrugs; he’s not entirely sure himself. “You left in a hurry. I wanted to see if you were alright.”

She hums softly in answer. She’s perched sideways on the couch, facing him. Krista’s resting her head on her hand, watching him. He lets his hand drift down to take hold of her other one, intertwining their fingers.

“I don’t know. I liked talking to you. Is that a bad thing?”

She smiles weakly. “Not at all. I liked talking to you too.” She looks like she’s about to cry, and Adam can’t figure out why that is.

“Stop looking so upset. It makes me feel like that guy who eats babies and murders puppies for fun.”

It makes Krista smile genuinely. “You’re a great guy, Adam. Really.”

“But you’re not that into me?” He sits up a little straighter, turning so that he can look at her head-on. “Cut the crap, Krista. What’s the matter? I don’t get what the problem is. We both had a good time tonight. I mean, I came here looking for a hookup, but finding a friend instead is way better.”

Instead of cheering her up, that just makes her look even more distraught; he can see tears pooling in those big brown eyes. Adam thinks he makes some sort of comforting noise as he moves forward to pull her into a hug. She buries her face in his shoulder and starts crying; he was rather fond of this shirt.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you cry! I just, you’re kind of amazing, you know? I like you a lot, Krista, but I’m like super gay or something, and girls are nice and all, but I don’t want to fuck one - ever.”

That either makes her cry harder or laugh hysterically; he can’t tell which one it is. Adam tries to think of something to say that doesn’t sound stupid, but he’s at a loss. He gives up and just holds her, rocking her back and forth.

Krista stops eventually, sniffling quietly and rubbing her eyes. She wriggles out of his hold and sits back in her original spot. Her eyes are red-rimmed and puffy, eyeliner and mascara washed away by her tears.

“I’m sorry,” she says, sniffling some more and directing it more at the ground than Adam. “I don’t usually cry like that. You probably think I’m a nut.”

“The best people usually are,” he says softly, tilting her chin up so that she’s actually meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry about the shit I said while you were crying, by the way. I don’t even know what I was thinking. I just wanted you to stop being so upset. You’re heartbreaking when you cry.”

She laughs off his concern. “Oh, don’t worry about it, Adam, I’m just being stupid. I know you aren’t into women. Believe me, I understand where you’re coming from.”

He smiles at her. “No hard feelings?”

Krista nods. “None whatsoever. At least, on my end. I just hope you don’t hate me or anything after this.”

“Why would I hate you?”

She bites her lip, gaze sliding back to the floor. “Well, I’m kind of not who I appear to be.”

Adam raises an eyebrow, one that’s eloquent enough to say at least ten different things. Right now it’s saying “what the ever loving fuck do you mean by that?”

“I’ve been honest with you the entire night, just. There was one thing I lied about, which leads to a whole bunch of other things I inadvertently lied about because that first lie led you to make assumptions about me based off of that one lie.” She says all of that in a rush, so fast that Adam almost doesn’t catch it.

“So what was this one lie?”

Krista smiles hesitantly at him, speaking so softly that he has to strain to hear her. “My name.”

Adam relaxes a bit; that isn’t too bad. “Okay. What’s your real name then?”

She opens her mouth a few times, but never actually says a word. She shakes her head then, a steely determination in her eyes. She scoots a bit closer, hands landing firmly on Adam’s shoulders, pressing him back until he’s leaning against the back of the couch. Krista’s practically in his lap now, kneeling over him and coming closer, until her lips are a hair’s breadth away from his own.

He knows what she’s going to do, and he doesn’t want to stop her.

“Kris,” she says in a throaty whisper, sweet and dark, voice gone lower, all traces of femininity gone.

She presses her mouth to his, and Adam’s hands move up to grip her waist, pulling her down until she’s settled firmly in his lap. He can feel how hard she is under her dress, can see it even better; the dress doesn’t hide much.

He wants to say that he knew from the start, but he’s not entirely sure if that’s true. It doesn’t matter anyway, none of that does, with the way she’s kissing him, desperately and with a little too much teeth, like she wants to mark and claim and make him remember this.

Her hands are scrabbling at his jeans, pulling away to growl in frustration when she can’t get them open and curling her fingers around the shape of his erection, straining against the fabric.

“Kris,” he starts, forgetting what he meant to say when she looks back up at him, eyes blown and lips red. He sees it then, a touch of vulnerability lurking underneath all that want.

Adam pulls her close to kiss her, soft and chaste, keeping the flame a low and slow simmer, even when she tries to make it burn brighter. Krista melts into his arms under the gentle assault, letting him take control and luxuriating in the tenderness of it all. When she relaxes, he breaks the kiss, giving her a quick peck to soothe her when she whines high in the back of her throat.

“I’m not stopping. I just want to tell you that you’re beautiful. Kris, Krista, whatever. You’re so gorgeous, baby.”

She smiles at him, shy and sincere. She probably has no idea what she does to him.

Adam lets his hands explore, skimming the curve of her waist and hips and finding nothing there but lithe muscle. He lets his hands creep under the hem of her dress, raising it higher and higher, teasing at the soft skin of her inner thighs and watching her shiver.

“Adam,” she gasps out, low and gravelly.

He chuckles darkly, leaning in to nip at her throat and letting his hands roam higher, spreading her legs further apart and groaning when his fingers brush against satin. He pulls her panties down, freeing her cock, hard and leaking at the head. He wants to spread her out on his bed and lick every inch of her.

That will have to wait until next time. There’s no time for slow here, but that’s okay. Hot and fast can be good too.

There’s nothing bad about the way Krista’s panting into his shoulder, gone wordless and mindless at his touch. She’s arching into his strokes, mewling as he rubs the head, spreading precome down her shaft and making her wet.

“Fuck, baby. You look so good like this. You going to come for me?”

She nods rapidly, nails digging into his shoulders as he speeds up his strokes. She’s bucking into his hand, babbling praises and curses, and then he can’t make anything out except his name as she comes, shuddering in his arms as it hits.

He licks his hand clean as she jerks through the aftershocks, opening easily when she claims his mouth in a kiss, seeking out her taste on his tongue.

It’s slow and lazy, until Krista’s hand wanders down, pressing against Adam’s cock and reminding him that only one of them has been satisfied. She pulls away from their kiss with a loud, wet sound, grinning devilishly. He gets why she has that look on her face when she slides out of his lap and onto her knees, settling between his legs.

“Can I?” she asks shyly, hands lingering on his zipper.

Adam wants to say yes, but he’s not sure if they have time. He’s about to tell her that maybe they should take this elsewhere, like his place, but she’s undoing the zipper and reaching in to take him in hand.

He really should’ve worn underwear tonight.

Krista’s eyes dart up to meet his, a smirk on her face as she starts stroking him leisurely, the fucking tease. “You usually go commando?” she asks, keeping the pace torturously slow.

“Not really. It depends on the pants,” he says, trying to keep his voice level.

She laughs a little, shuffling closer to him, warm breath gusting over his cock, making his hips buck up a little, her hands moving to steady him. He wants to grab her head and make her take him, end the teasing and get to what they both want. She’d probably look gorgeous with his cock in her mouth; Krista’s lips look made for it.

“I am about to walk into the room. I am entering the pass code; if one or both parties currently inside are unclothed, now would be a good time to get dressed.”

Fuck.

Adam’s going to fucking kill Tommy. Wait, Tommy? How the hell did he even know where to find this room, let alone get inside it?

While he’d been wondering about that, Krista had tucked him back inside his pants and settled back onto the couch, making herself comfortable underneath his arm. He groans, so tempted to pick up where they left off, even if they are about to have company. She reaches down to cup his hard cock, patting it gently and fluttering her lashes at him as she does; she’s so going to get it later.

“You can come in,” she calls out to whoever’s at the door, taking her hand away and making Adam pout. She leans up to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear. “Later,” is all she says, eyes dark.

The door opens with a flourish, Tommy walking in with Cale in tow; they look smug.

“Told you it’d work,” Cale says, sitting on Krista’s other side and tugging at a lock of her hair.

“That what would work?” Adam asks, eyes darting from the looks on their faces to the perplexed one on Krista’s.

Tommy nonchalantly plops onto Krista’s lap, giving Adam an evil grin. “Our little matchmaking attempt.” He turns to Krista, giving her a peck on the cheek. “Hey, babe. You look good in a dress.”

She giggles, ruffling Tommy’s hair - _and surviving_. “Thanks, Tommy. I wasn’t sure about it at first, but it’s actually pretty comfortable.”

“What the hell is going on here?”

They both ignore him, deep into their own conversation, something about Krista’s legs; Adam tries not to pout. Cale rolls his eyes, craning his neck a bit to talk to Adam over their heads.

“Give them a minute and eventually they’ll remember that they’re not the only two people in the room. They’ve gotten freakishly close since I introduced them. One of these days, Kris is going to end up stealing my boyfriend from me.”

Adam’s head is going to explode from all these big reveals.

“So, wait, hold on. You and this blond idiot are going out?”

Cale nods. “Yep. We met a couple months ago and it just kind of works somehow. He’s amazing,” he says, eyes drifting to Tommy. A soft smile forms on his lips and his eyes get hazy.

“Okay, that’s nice, but where does matchmaking come into it?”

He opens his mouth to answer, but Tommy gets there first. “Simple, oh great glittery one. You’ve been a sad sack since that last twink didn’t work out and Kris is exactly your type. I thought I’d set you guys up and see how it goes. Obviously, it went well.” Tommy looks like he’s about to orgasm from the success of his little scheme.

Adam decides to let it go and just deal with the gloating that’s sure to come. “I’ll hand it to you this time, Tommy. Your plan was a good one.” A warm, callused hand grips his own, making him startle. He looks up and sees Krista’s shy smile, one she tries to hide behind Tommy’s blond fringe.

But Adam still needs to know, “Where does the dress come into all of this?”

She blushes hard, burying her red face in Tommy’s neck. Cale laughs, grinning widely. “That was an unpredicted snag in the plan. You see, one of our friends decided to take advantage of an extremely drunk Kris and bet that he couldn’t spend a night out dressed in drag.”

Adam laughs. “Oh my god. You were drunk! You probably could have gotten out of it, baby.”

Krista finally looks up from her hiding place. “A bet’s a bet, okay?” she says brusquely, scowling.

“His honor would have been at stake,” Cale says gravely, like this is a matter of life and death.

Adam and Tommy share a look; seriously?

“If it makes any difference, Tommy almost killed me when I told him. How were we supposed to set you guys up if Kris was, uh, not exactly himself? Luckily, you fell for those pretty brown eyes anyway, the way everyone does.”

They both look way too self-satisfied; Adam wants to take them down a peg or five.

“Yeah, yeah. You two had your fun. Now get out.” He wants to get back to what they were doing before these two pests interrupted them. He none too gently shoves Tommy off Krista’s lap, relieved when Cale takes his hand and pulls him towards the door; maybe he’s not so bad after all.

“I want details!” is all Tommy has time to say before the door closes.

He rolls his eyes; he needs new friends.

“Now that we’re alone,” Krista practically purrs in his ear, hand already moving south. Adam grabs it before she can reach her goal.

“Now that we’re alone, we’re going to talk.”

“That’s not nearly as fun as what I wanted to do.” Her arms are crossed, a pout on her lips; she looks ridiculously adorable.

He hauls her into his lap and tries to kiss her, sighing when she avoids his lips. Adam runs a hand down her side, smirking when she squirms in his arms. He starts tickling her, smiling when she laughs and wriggles, finally letting him catch her lips in a kiss.

“Okay, okay, fine. We can talk.” She twists in his lap, winding her arms around his neck and making herself comfortable. “So. Talk,” she says impatiently.

“First off, we aren’t doing anything but talking while we’re in here.” Krista opens her mouth to protest but he puts a finger to her lips, hushing her. “Don’t complain. I just want to have you in a bed. And maybe see you without all of this on sometime, like on a date? You look great, don’t get me wrong, but I want to meet Kris. I doubt you look like this all the time.”

She bites her lip, eyes darting to the floor. “I don’t know if you’d be interested in Kris. I mean, he’s kind of boring. He loves plaid a little too much and always wears clothes that are a bit too big. He doesn’t like crowds and people kind of forget he’s there because he’s quiet most of the time. People like that don’t get to have people like you for long.”

Oh, he could kill her for being so thick.

“Look at me,” Adam says firmly, tilting her chin up when she won’t. “You’re more interesting than anyone I’ve dated in the past three months, you’re funny, you’re kind and you look really good in a dress.” She laughs at that, but he can tell she doesn’t really believe him. “Tommy loves you, which is practically impossible, and I wanted you even when I thought you didn’t have the right parts. You’re full of surprises, and I want to know what all of them are.”

Krista smiles at him, soft and shy, pressing her lips against his. “You sure know how to sweet-talk a girl.”

He snorts. “Only the ones I really like.” She smiles again, and Adam’s pretty sure he could watch Krista smile forever and never get bored.

“So. Your place or mine?” he asks eventually, playing with the hem of her dress and grinning when he tickles her under the crook of her knee.

She hums noncommittally, head lolling back against his shoulder so she can look up at him. Krista stares at him for a while, silent.

“Mine,” she says decisively. “You can help me out of this dress and this god awful wig, and then I’m going to take a shower. And then you can meet Kris,” she says softly, playing with Adam’s fingers, nervous but determined.

“I’d like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 1/21/11


End file.
